Redrawing the Lines
by Lovingh3art
Summary: Post-Brainiac's attack, the world is once again left with an uncertain future. Batman has plans to pick up the pieces, but what are they? Meanwhile, new players take the stage as they set their own goals into motion. A collection of one-shots set after the events of the game.
1. The Circle of Trust

**Disclaimer: I do not own Injustice 2, the events or characters in the game, etc. They belong to Warner Bros, DC Comics, and NetherRealm Studios.**

The room smelled of a tone that had long been extinct from usage. An oval of a table was centered in the middle, shades of grey and turquoise peppering it in their shadows. Sitting at the middle of the table and looking grimmer than usual was Batman. His cowl was significantly brighter, but his visage still hinted at the personality of a man who had fresh tragedy dripping from his mind. His eyes nervously dashed to the door and scanned the room for the seventh time, even though he knew that there wasn't any danger towards him or the upcoming guests – yet.

As if on cue, the door in the corner opened up, and a handful of people started filing in. A man with a green spandex outfit, a blond goatee and hair, and a high-tech bow; a moderately fit woman with black leather overalls and blond curls; two young adult males, one looking like a blue-scaled bug monster and the other a man whose head was on fire. Following behind them were a speedster in red and gold, a space policeman lined with green, and a demented woman with clown makeup and a red-and-black color scheme.

Firestorm took one look around the room before sitting down. "Spacious place," he stated. "Might be better with some lighting."

"Was that a pun or are you serious?" Harley said sarcastically while taking her own seat. "I can't tell with two knuckleheads in that noggin."

"If it helps, I think this place needs a little dusting," commented Green Arrow.

"We did just start renting this place, Ollie," Black Canary quipped from next to him. He held up his hands in defense.

"Hey, I'm just saying."

Green Lantern looked around the room. "Hey, aren't we missing someone?"

"She'll be here," said Batman.

"She?" asked Firestorm. "Wait, do you mean-"

The question was answered quickly by a gush of air and a loud thump outside the door. The eyes of the group turned to see a young woman dressed in a blue-and-red set of armor with a crimson cape enter the room. Her blond hair was short and her face determined, but those weren't what caught everyone's attention; it was the familiar "S" on her chest. Some seemed to perk up at Supergirl's arrival, but one or two held suspicions on their faces.

Batman coughed. "Now that everyone's here, I think it's about time we got underway." The dark knight clicked a small button on his left wrist, and the door shut in response. Punching it again, a holographic display began to show above the center of the table.

"Brainiac is defeated. Thanks to the work of everyone here and some others"- his voice hardened at the mention of this – "the worst is dealt with. But that doesn't mean that we're out of the thicket yet."

Another holographic image popped up, this time of several cities outlined in red. "When Superman disconnected from Brainiac's ship, Coast City and Metropolis were…lost. We still don't know if that's for sure, but as of this moment, we have to assume it's the case."

"We were there, Bruce," interjected Flash. "What happened…it's more than just a tragedy."

"As much as I feel bad for what happened with those cities, what about Superman?" Firestorm asked boldly.

"We sent him to the Phantom Zone," Supergirl muttered quickly. When everyone looked at her, her face darkened. "Batman exposed him to enough Gold Kryptonite…to permanently depower him."

"Whoa," said Harley in surprise. "I knew he was goin' back to jail, but losin' his powers…that's a whole new level."

"Kara's right," Batman said. "With Superman in the Phantom Zone, he's safely under lock and key. It's his co-conspirators that we have to worry about. Adam and Diana are being housed at Luthor Penitentiary. Whether or not they can stay there for long remains to be seen."

"And Damian?" asked Green Lantern. "He's there, isn't he?"

Batman looked down and sighed. Anybody with a brain knew that was answer enough.

"Suits him right," Blue Beetle quipped. "He was spraying bug puns left and right when I fought him!"

"Bruce, what about Aquaman, not to mention Victor? I'm not in the clear on what's happened with them," Black Canary stated.

"From what my sources say, Arthur's retreated back to Atlantis. I'm hoping that he took my warning to heart," Batman said bluntly. "As for Cyborg, he's been offered a downgraded sentence as a result of the part he played in fighting Brainiac."

"So what's the catch?" Green Arrow asked.

"Simple," Harley answered. "Those science geeks need someone to keep Brainiac unda' wraps. Right, Bats?"

"Tttt," Batman grunted.

"Can…can they even keep that monster contained?" Supergirl asked with a sudden hint of fear in her voice. Her grip on the table tightened, resulting in a crack.

Flash saw her distress and put a hand on her shoulder. "Kara, we have to trust that'll happen. If fear wins, then what can we do?"

Green Lantern folded his arms and turned to the Dark Knight. "Speaking of fear, what happened to Scarecrow and the others from the Society?"

"Catwoman's reported they've gone dark," Batman stated. "Scarecrow, Cheetah, Ivy, and Cold are off the grid…Lucky for us, the authorities caught Deadshot outside of Metropolis."

The ghost of a smile appeared on Flash's face. "I know that he was part of the Society," he said, "but I'm holding out hope that Snart can change. If I and Hal could come back from the darkness, why not him too?"

"I feel like we're digressing here," Black Canary said as she put a hand up to her temple.

"I agree, amigo," Blue Beetle added annoyingly.

Batman sighed, but in a tired way. "Then let's get to the main point. Most of the players against us are off the table. The world is in need of real change and we have the potential to lead it. To lead towards a better tomorrow."

"Look, Bruce," Black Canary started, "Is this the same spiel you had before about using our connections to improve the world? It didn't exactly work out well then."

"No," Batman stated flatly. "I'm talking about restarting the Justice League – and I want all of you on it."

Everyone's faces looked surprised. Some gasped and others held their lips in place.

"Ya want me to join the Justice League? Count me in!" Harley exclaimed excitedly.

Flash looked perplexed and curious at the same time, cupping his hands and laying his elbows on the table. "You really think the world's ready for the League again?"

"Nobody ever is, Barry," replied Batman, "but we need to try. We have to." He surveyed the rest of the table slowly. "What do you all think? Are you in or not?"

Green Arrow and Black Canary exchanged looks, then gripped hands. "We'll do it, Bruce," she said, "though we're still going to be parents at the same time."

"Yeah. Can't imagine Connor learning to practice his powers or go to Star City baseball games without us," Green Arrow added.

"That's fine," Batman replied.

"I need to check with the Corps, but I'll probably be open for it all," Green Lantern blurted out. His eyes focused on his ring as he said it.

"I'd TOTALLY be up for this! Sign me up!" Blue Beetle chattered excitedly.

"We're in, B-man," Firestorm said in a cool voice. "Tell us when, and we'll bring the fire."

The Flash folded his arms and nodded. "I'm still not done redeeming myself, but I feel I can make a go at the team again."

That left just Supergirl, who looked taken aback by the question. Adding more embarrassment to the situation, everyone looked at her to see what she would say. Batman himself had offered a place in the League to her before, but this time it was a concrete chance. Her eyes relaxed and her breathing slowed, hinting that she was about to make a decision.

"What Kal did…he took our symbol of hope and perverted it," Supergirl stated in a clear voice. Her arms folded as her face soured. "I get what happened to him, how horrible it was…but still, people are scared of this symbol. And I still don't know exactly what sets me apart from him, even if I came so many years later."

Batman looked hurt. "Kara…"

Black Canary held up her hand. "Let her finish, Bruce."

Supergirl blinked and then continued. "But I also know that after all we did, there's hope. There's a chance that I can redeem what he did. People all over the world need our help, and if I can prove myself in the process, then I'll take it." She stood up, pushing her chair away in the process. "So yes, you've got my vote. When do we start?"

Everyone looked to Batman. He closed his knuckles and smirked, something that set off the nerves of everyone there.

"Right now."

 **So this is going to be a series of one-off tales set after the game. DLC Characters will be explored, so maybe around 10-11 more chapters. Maybe there will be a connective one, still figuring it all out. Anyways, please enjoy and review!**


	2. Antithesis

Quick feet scurried from the cold marble floor to the long sprawl of burned cement ahead of the Parademon. He ran past sentries and other Apokolyptian warriors on guard duty, the flames barely scathing he armor. Reaching the door, he quickly pushed it open to reveal a heavily furnished room of black concrete lit up by flames in the walls held on torches. Other Parademons were standing at attention in rows, and within their stances, a few glared at the new arrival. Somewhat out of breath, he looked up and stopped breathing.

A heavy-set, large, and imposing figure of grey skin and darker blue armor sat on a black throne. Evil purely resonated from within him, and his immense fingers cracking the grips on his ornate chair proved this. His eyes were colored red, but it was the crackling crimson energy emanating from them that sent fear into the scout. His lip curled as he began his questioning.

" **What do you have, scout?"** Darkseid breathed in a voice that was both ancient and malicious.

" _My lord Darkseid,"_ the Parademon muttered in a clicking, high-pitched tone as he took a bow and lowered his head temporarily. " _I have been watching the Earth for the past five years, as you have requested."_

" **And?"**

The scout paused for a second. " _Superman has been deposed. Even better…our enemy, the collector Brainiac, has been defeated and detained by humanity."_

Darkseid cupped his chin with his right hand, smirking slowly but evilly. " **Fascinating. So both of the threats to Apokolips' plans are out of play."**

" _It would appear that way,"_ clicked the Parademon.

Suddenly standing up, Darkseid stepped down from his throne and started walking around the room, placing his hands behind his back. It was commonplace for him to do this, as the Parademons were all too aware, when he was thinking. **"Superman will feel my wrath. He had the gall to take my son from me. Now he is going to die, broken and without the aid he once had."**

Slightly nervous, the Parademon piped up. " _There is one more thing, my lord."_

Darkseid stopped and turned around. A tint of annoyance was visible on his grey, crinkled face. " **What?"**

" _I…I have heard chatter from New Genesis,"_ buzzed the scout. " _They have claimed to have hidden the Anti-Life Equation on Earth."_

" **I see,"** Darkseid replied. " **And do you know where this is?"**

The scout looked nervous. " _I…I-"_

" **-I didn't think so,"** Darkseid finished as he quickly grasped the scout by the neck and lifted him up in a surprising amount of speed. The other Parademons showed either quick shock or little concern for their compatriot. **"That is nothing. If you do not bring your lord information AT ALL, don't make an effort in the first place."**

Feeling bored with the Parademon, Darkseid applied pressure to his fingers and rubbed them against the scout's jugular. A few seconds later, the bug soldier fell to the floor, dead and with a snapped neck ingrained with heavy finger marks. The others looked on, not giving a care for what had happened.

" **A waste he was,"** Darkseid lamented, continuing his strut around the room with his enfolded arms behind his back. **"However, the bug made a point. Earth took my son, and I have not given it my due revenge."** A sinister smile drew to form on his face, leading to a deep chuckle from the mad despot. He turned to the nearest Parademon sentry. **"Bug, prepare for transport to Earth. I have business I need to attend to."**

" _Of course, Lord Darkseid."_ The sentry rushed out the door in a hurry, making the twin slabs close in a slow but loud motion. Satisfied with what was going to happen, Darkseid walked back to his throne and sat down.

" **I'm coming for you, son of Krypton,"** Darkseid said to no one in particular. **"And you will burn."** Right on cue, his beating red eyes lit up with devastating energy.


	3. The Willpower to Hope

**Thanks for the following and reviews! I'm happy people are as invested in this as I am. To commemorate, here's a response to a review...**

 **Dave321: Thanks! This will continue for a while, don't worry. As for your question, the DLC characters will be getting their stories pretty soon (and as weird as this sounds, the guest characters as well; there will be an in-story explanation, don't worry!). Hope you're excited.**

 **I'm going to be working on the next ones soon, but this next chapter or two might take some time. See you all then, and enjoy!**

Green Lantern sat on the edge of the cliff, his leg drooped over it while the rest of his body was relaxed and sitting up. His eyes scanned what could be seen of the massive canyon; he particularly admired the ways in which it all bent and curved into a brownish-yellow bowl of rock. With so few bodies of water nearby and little vegetation to offer, it was a wonder to him how the animals living here flourished in the harshest of conditions. In a way, it reminded him of his own checkered past, as well as how he had – and still was – dealing with moving towards a brighter tomorrow.

His mind played back the earlier events of the day, where Batman brought up the idea of restarting the League with everybody there on its' roster. To be honest, he was in for the idea (though he was a little shocked at the idea of Harley being a leaguer herself). Yet as much as he wanted to go back to something that he remembered from his past, it was that moment that doubt seized the chance to creep in. For all his battles with his own hatred towards himself, he couldn't shake the feeling that he would screw up.

"Thinking about something?"

Hal swung around, his ring aimed until he saw who it was and lowered in embarrassment. A being of blue and black armor, his energy aura the color of cyan, floated some feet away from him. His skin was chalk-white with lines of black drawing into his mouth and eyes. The end of his head extended into a sort of hair-like appendage that ran down his back, also white in color. He was Saint Walker, the founder of the Blue Lantern Corps.

"Saint?" Hal said as he got up. "Good to see you." He reached out a hand, which the alien took with his own gingerly.

"And you as well, my friend," Saint replied. "It has been some time since we last met. I daresay…over ten years?"

Green Lantern looked down, scratching his neck uncomfortably. "Yeah…see, a lot's happened since then…" What would've been a drawn-out explanation was interrupted when Saint put his white hand on Hal's shoulder.

"I have heard, Hal Jordan, of your history in those times," replied the blue Lantern. "Our corps has been in hiding because of the yellow ring bearers' conquests, but even in hiding…It was a no-brainer that we wouldn't hear what happened on Earth eventually."

"Oh…"Hal said, feeling as if his heart was being stopped by the dread of what was going to come next. "Saint…I-"

"You are understood, Green Lantern," Saint interrupted again. "You lost your way, just as many in the universe have. You let your fear and corruption fester in your mind, costing many their lives as a price. But when you looked at yourself, you felt shame and regret…and from that, a hope of redemption was born. You have come a long way since then." A smile formed on his white face. "The Blue Lanterns commend you." He put his two hands together and bowed quickly.

Nervously, Green Lantern smirked. "….Thanks. It's…appreciated. No offense, though, but why are you here? I can't imagine you flew hundreds of miles across the galaxy for condolences."

"You are quick to understand," the Blue Lantern replied with a smirk. "It is true; I have come to alert you of a threat to the universe…one you are most familiar with."

"What is it?"

Saint extended his ring finger and concentrated as a spasm of cyan energy surged into a moving shape. Edges and creases formed in mere seconds, the process ending with an energy projection of a human-sized alien. He had bulky armor, a wicked face, and talon-sharp claws. What was most striking, though, was the malicious Red Lantern symbol locked squarely on his chest. Hal knew Atrocities when he saw him; the evil ring bearer had recently attacked him during Brainiac's strike on Atlantis, and the anger-fueled attack was still fresh on his mind.

"Atrocitus and his Red Lantern Corps are attacking planets across the galaxy," Saint stated plainly. "They are ravaging civilizations in their brazen anger crusade, twisting or burning creatures with their malicious will. If they are not stopped, then they might become as dangerous as the Collector of Worlds himself."

Green Lantern folded his arms. "Yeah, well, that can't exactly happen. Especially since I and Atrocitus are due for a rematch. We're probably going to need a lot more Lanterns -y'know, if they're not already on this."

Saint tapped his own ring. "Don't forget that we Blue Lanterns will not be far behind."

Chuckling, Hal looked off into the distance and propelled himself forward, his willpower enveloping him in a green safety outline as he flew higher and higher into the air. Saint Walker was not far behind him, intent on seeing this through as well.

"Ring, send a message to Batman," Hal barked as they flew farther up the atmosphere. "Tell him I'm going to be busy for a bit. And by a bit, I mean a while."

" _Affirmative_ ," the ring responded in a mechanical voice. " _Message sent_."

 _Let's see how he takes that._ The two ring bearers finally reached the all-too-familiar edge of the planet's atmosphere, viewing space at the top of it all. It was a spectacular sight, but Hal didn't let it detract from his mission. He shot forward and propelled himself towards the familiar coordinates of Oa, followed by his blue friend. As much as he wanted to help with the League, the Red Lanterns were a far bigger problem. Playing super-powered baseball with bad guys could wait.


	4. Painting the Belfry Red

**Time for the Red hood chapter. Just FYI, this one is a little dark, but I tried to keep the violence to a minimum at points.**

The street was dark enough to have trouble discerning shadows from the cobblestones, but the man running didn't seem to have a problem navigating them. Sweat streaming down his face, he turned and looked back with fear overtaking him like a parasite. Who or what was chasing him wasn't there, but he couldn't shake the feeling that if he looked away, it would be the last he ever saw.

He reached a corner and ducked down a decrepit alleyway, the residence full of dirty trash remains and overturned cobble pieces. When he reached the wall, he turned and felt for an out-of-place brick, then immediately applied pressure to twist it. To his luck, a small door miraculously opened from the wall; the man seized the opportunity and bolted through. Once he was gone, the momentary entrance slipped back into the wall as if it had never been there.

The man found himself in a darkened room, ovular in size but large enough to stretch down a hallway. He passed several stuffed birds mounted on the wall that looked like the life had been squeezed out of them. When he reached the end of the hall, he was greeted by two large men in business suits and sunglasses. One had his arms folded while the other one was holding a small pistol in his right fist.

"What d'ya doin' here," the guard with folded arms asked.

"I have to speak to Mr. Cobblepot," the man said hurriedly. "It's urgent."

"Password?" the other guard dictated.

The man took a deep breath before answering. "Emperor Penguin."

The guards looked at each other, then back at him. "You're in, Ogilvy." He motioned to the door, which Ignatius took for yes and quickly moved to it.

Opening the door, he was sucked into the small, cozy room that his employer was housed in. Oswald Cobblepot was a portly man who looked more like an inflatable puffin than a penguin; he wore a monocle on one eye, boasted a long, crooked nose, and had balding yet long hair protruding down the back of his head. One hand of his grasped a cigar while another was planted firmly on a stack of papers. Ignatius scanned the space and noticed that the walls, once polished wood, were now cracked and looked in need of repair. Posters concerning the Regime and the state of the world were lazily plastered around, signifying that what had been happening was getting to be troublesome to Penguin's mind.

Penguin perked up at the appearance of his right-hand man. "Ignatius! Good to see you, my boy!" He gestured with a chubby hand to the seat opposite his desk, which the man gladly took. "What do you have to report?"

"That's the thing, Mr. Cobblepot," Ignatius replied. "We-we're in danger…"

"Of course we're in danger!" snapped Cobblepot in a cheerful tone. "We're criminals! You think we weren't in trouble back when Superman was docile, or when he became psycho and started killing? So long as we play our cards right, we're bound to have the same odds."

Ignatius sweated more intensely. Cobblepot wasn't getting the message, and that just wouldn't do.

"No…" he replied, more fearful this time. "I mean real danger…"

Something of a deductive look crossed Oswald's face. He leaned closer and furrowed his brows. "Ignatius…what are you talking about?"

"Sir…I'm sorry…I thought I lost him, but…he's going to come here," said his henchman in an increasingly frightful voice. "I just know it."

"Who? Who are we talking about?"

Ignatius was about to respond when a loud BANG was heard from the hallway. Both turned to the door, hearing an alarming mix of gunshots, shouting, and heavy grunts from what were presumably the Penguin's guards. Ignoring his sweating underling, Cobblepot got up from his desk and unsheathed an umbrella from the shelf, cocking it in his arms like a rifle towards the door. He had the sinking feeling he knew exactly who was coming, but he needed to be ready for when he came.

A few seconds passed as the sounds quieted. Both couldn't any of the henchmen from the hallway, which was already worrying, but their dual fear increased when a voice with a tint of sadism in it began talking.

"Oswald…I know you're in there," the voice from behind the door said mockingly. "Why don't you open up and give up now? It's better than what I've planned for you."

Ignatius looked at his boss fearfully. "Sir, what do we do? He's going to kill us!"

"Quiet, Ogilvy!" barked Penguin, his gaze focused incredibly on the doors. His grip tightened around the umbrella like it was the last time he would be alive.

"Well, I guess this isn't going to work like I wanted it to," the voice stated, "but hey, at least I can have some fun doing this."

Before either could fathom what was about to happen, a sudden explosion eviscerated the door and sent the two flying backward into the wall. Ogilvy hit a cabinet and slumped down, alive but bruised severely. Penguin was luckier; he hit a stack of papers that cushioned his fall, spreading across the floor in the process. As he came to, he was shocked by the devastation done to what was once his proud office. The front of the room was burnt or charred in some areas, while the various trophies and papers around it had been completely destroyed.

But what was more shocking was the figure who walked casually into the office. At first indistinguishable thanks to the scattered flames, he became clearer to Penguin as he got closer. He was a tall figure dressed in a tannish jacket and wearing a black undershirt and jeans. His hands were both full of twin pistols, but what really took the cake was the frightening red helmet placed on top of his head. Red Hood sure liked scaring criminals with grand entrances.

"(cough)…Red Hood?" Penguin wheezed from his slumped position, trying to reach his umbrella while looking at his assailant.

"That's me, man," Red Hood replied sarcastically. He suddenly turned and looked at Ogilvy, who was attempted to slide away in his injured condition. "Uh, uh. You're not going anywhere."

Ogilvy looked at Penguin, fear lodged in his eyes. "Sir-"

BANG! He slumped to the floor and didn't say another word. Penguin was appalled and looked at Red Hood as if he killed a baby. "Why, you-"

"Oh, cut the crap, Penguin," Red Hood interjected as he came around and aimed his guns at him. "I killed your guys in the hallway and across town. It's not like you value one over others, is it? Because if so, you might want to get those tissues out."

Surprisingly, Cobblepot laughed a humorless chuckle. "You kill us criminals, make business bad, and you think this is some sort of game? You don't know the half of what I do!" In his tirade, the crime boss quickly located his umbrella and stashed it next to his left hand.

Red Hood knelt down and cocked one of his guns at Penguin's gut. "That's the thing, Oswald. I do think it's a game – one where I make this city AND the world better in doing it. So if I seem sadistically inclined to crack jokes while killing you dirtbags, just accept it. Or wait, maybe you won't because you'll BE DEAD."

"Dream on, blood bat," Penguin croaked. He took the opportunity to unsheathe his umbrella's blade and then swung it in an attempt to stab Red Hood in the leg. Unfortunately for him, the vigilante was two steps ahead and caught the umbrella's midsection with ease before ripping it away and throwing it into the far corners of the room. He then proceeded to stomp his foot on top of Penguin's arm, the pain making Cobblepot bellow in agony.

"Aaaaaagggghhhhh!"

"I'd love to extend this. Really, I would," Red Hood continued as he twisted his leg on the arm, "but I've got places to be and criminals to kill. With that stupid alien defeated, Gotham's bound to get a lot more hectic."

Already in pain, Penguin narrowed his eyes and grimaced at the murderous vigilante. "You…you'll never make a difference…"

Red Hood's responded by taking his pistol in his left hand and aiming at Penguin's head. "Wanna bet?"

BANG!


	5. An Uncertain Fate

**I'm finding it's actually quite fun to write John Constantine, much to my surprise. I guess writing one-shots can do that to you. Anyways, thank you to Red Lightning OP and others for following and favoriting this story. Please review and share your opinions if possible - I like feedback in any form.**

Smack dab in the middle of Louisiana was Slaughter Swamp, an old trading site where many a merchant had once lived. Local superstitions and fanatical tales had made it out to be a place that should have been ignored and left alone, and the reasoning seemed to be legit; crocodiles patrolled its waters by the dozen, and Solomon Grundy had been born in the swamp's very waters. Any other time, though, it was generally a calm place to be.

On this very night, a faint howl permeated the grounds of an old deckhouse. Posts of skulls, floating dead alligators hanging from masts, and on and off lampposts were scattered around. The dock was quiet, no longer creaking like it normally would. The lights in the house were out, and the trees had stopped swaying thanks to the lack of wind. It was, for all intents and purposes, a normal night.

Something that wasn't normal, however, was the sudden blue portal that produced itself out of thin air. A tall and somewhat-built Englishman stepped out. Sporting blond hair, a brown trench coat, and carrying a black bag in his right hand, John Constantine had felt he'd made a mistake coming here. Then he mentally hit himself; making mistakes was his mojo, after all. Desperate to destress from this potentially stupid idea, he popped out a cigarette and lighted it, then stuck it in his mouth.

"Bloody hell…" he mused through the smoke coming from his mouth. "This might've not been the best idea…"

"John?" The demonologist turned to see the very spirit that had got him there in the first place, a man made up of blue wispy energy and floating nearby over the ground. "Are you all set? Can I go?"

Sighing, the mystic waved his hand absentmindedly. "Yeah. Sure, mate. You can go. Just don't go haunt people next time, or you'll owe me another favor."

The spirit shrugged before dissipating back into the afterlife. Constantine chuckled while smoking the cigarette. If he was to have a surname, it might as well be the babysitter for demons and ghosts; he sure was encountering a lot more of those than he used to.

"Where is that turnip? Thought he liked the swamp…"

" _I am here, John Constantine."_ A solitary voice rang in his ears. Waving off the initial shock, he turned and gazed at the swamp, watching as a hulking creature emerged from the water in a slow but stoic fashion. Stepping onto the mainland, the plant guardian known as Swamp Thing shook some water off before glowering down at the mystic. John always was ticked off by how much taller Swamp Thing was than himself.

"Evenin', Holland," he replied casually. "Bit cold tonight, ain't it?"

" _It is always cold here_ ," Swamp Thing replied. He focused on a flower blooming from his wrist as he continued talking. " _I do not feel it, as I am not human_."

"Fair point." John fumbled through his pocket and found another cigarette, then held It out. "Fancy a smoke?"

Swamp Thing didn't reply, only looking at him with the visage of dislike he was finding everyone had out for him.

"Just messing with you," he replied as he put the cigarette back into his pocket. "I know you and fire don't exactly mix well…"

" _Why are you here?"_ Swamp Thing asked bluntly. His fists tightened to emphasize his point.

His casualness disappearing, Constantine sighed and put his bag down. "You remember that alien, Brainiac I think it was? Real prat, thought he was a god and all? Not to mention mind controlling you."

" _It will not happen again_ ," Swamp Thing assured him.

"Right. Anyways, while he was going 'War of the Worlds', one of our own fell. You heard, didn't you- Doctor Fate?"

" _I felt it in the Green. It is a tragedy_." As if on command, a circle of flowers blossomed at his feet.

"Yeah, well, I got a call from down the mystic pipeline to some old site," Constantine stated while bending down. "And when I got there, I found this." He lifted with two hands an ornate golden helmet from the bag, positioning it in front of himself so the guardian of the green could view it as well. The bottom was curved in a v-fashion while the top had a small golden fin on top. Small markings covered the spaces from which the eyes could be seen.

Swamp Thing's eyes widened. _"You stole the Helmet of Fate? From its dead wearer?"_ He advanced forward.

"Now hang on a minute!" Constantine held up a hand to stand his ground, the helmet in his other one. "I didn't steal it – at least, for bad reasons. I know, it's in my nature to do stuff like that, but this…I respected Kent. Sure, he could be a stubborn prat sometimes, but he was just like me. A magician. I only took it because some blokes with less honorable ideas might've wanted it for themselves."

" _You wish to keep the helmet safe?"_

"Yeah," Constantine replied. "But that's not all of it. I can't sense Nabu in there. It's like he's gone."

Swamp Thing gazed down at the helmet and held out a hand, small tendrils of plant life stretching off towards it. Slithering around the frame, they touched the golden surface before returning to his grassy fingertips. " _Hmmm….this is most troublesome…"_

"Yeah, it is," Constantine replied. "Without the genie in the helmet, there can't be another Doctor Fate. Word's gonna get around that there isn't one."

" _I know_ ," Swamp Thing grunted. He turned and looked back at the swamp, an air of seriousness filling him up. " _If we wish to solve this, we will need help_." He turned back to Constantine. " _You know who I talk of, Constantine."_

Suddenly realizing who he was referring to, John shook his head disdainfully. "You've got to be kidding me. Not her."

Swamp Thing folded his arms. " _But she is the only option_."

Sighing, John gripped another cigarette from his pocket and lit it in an irritable fashion. "Y'know, you can really be a prickly pear sometimes."

...

"No."

"Well, that was quick," Constantine lamented sarcastically.

John and Swamp Thing had made their way to the door of one Zatanna Zatara, an accomplished magician and spellcaster. She wore a black show suit and top hat, the color of which complemented her long dark locks. For the past several years, she'd been in hiding after helping Batman fight Superman, biding the time for his eventual defeat. Of course, John had also gotten out of her good graces then, which was the reason she was reluctant to hear anything from his lips.

" _Zatanna, why are you upset? This is important."_ Swamp Thing asked.

Zatanna stomped up to her and placed a heavy finger on the brit's chest. "I'll tell you why. John here decided to lead us all on a wild goose chase concerning Trigon and Mr. Mxyzptlyk. When it was all over, he and his daughter ran off into the sunset. He left us. He betrayed my trust."

"Hm," Swamp Thing said. "You have a daughter?"

"Yeah," John said solemnly "Her name's Rose. But…it's complicated. And I'm damn well not telling you anything about where she is, Z. I accept what I did, but I ain't bloody apologizing for it."

"I didn't expect anything less." Zatanna walked over to a cabinet before leaning on it, folding her leather arms and looking tired. "So, what is it you need?"

"You heard that Fate bit it, right? Well, I got a…call, if you will, from his helmet, so I decided to pocket it for safekeeping. 'Cept it isn't talking anymore, and I thought maybe you could sort it all out." The British demonologist bent down and scooped the Helmet of Fate into the bright light of the room. Zatanna was purely shocked at the sight of the mystical object.

"John, of all the things-"

"Look, I already had this talk with Holland, okay?" Constantine stated, jabbing a finger at Swamp Thing who barely cared for the comment. "Can you figure out if Nabu's in there or not? It would really help."

Zatanna sighed. "You're going to owe me for this, Constantine. And I mean it." She quickly took the helmet from his grasp and moved it to a nearby table full of spell books and rune pages. Placing it in the middle of the mess, she put her hands on the edges of the wood and closed her eyes. Constantine and Swamp Thing felt a sudden shift in the temperature as an energy of some sort seemed to take shape.

"dnif em Uban!" Zatanna cried in a magical tongue, her eyes briefly white as she said it. The Helmet of Fate suddenly lit up, to the shock of the three magicians, and then proceeded to float higher until it was well above them and the floor. The keyholes of the helmet were abuzz with an orange energy. Then it turned to the magic users as if alive.

" **Who dares summon Nabu, servant to the Lords of Order?"** The helmet barked. Constantine looked like Christmas had come early.

"Whoopie," he said sarcastically. "The talkin' helmet returns right after the owner dies. How ya been, Nabu? Pretty pissed, I'd guess?"

" **Quiet!"** the helmet demanded in an authoritarian voice. "I did not return to trade insults with you, John Constantine. After Superman destroyed my form, it took great effort to reassemble myself."

"Wait, you were destroyed?" asked a concerned Zatanna. "I thought you were still intact."

" _Constantine told us so,"_ Swamp Thing added.

"The witch and avatar of the green are correct," Nabu continued. "I was forcefully ripped from Nelson before the Kryptonian crushed me in his grasp. Luckily, the lords of order reassembled me."

"Okay, enough with the chit-chat," Constantine interrupted, gaining irksome looks from everyone in the process. "You sent me a signal to find you, Nabu. Why? What's buggering you so much you need a magical conman like me?"

" **Because there are horrors coming that only you – and possibly more mortals – can comprehend. If not, a dire fate will befall this realm."**

" _What horrors?"_

" **When Black Adam channeled the power of the Rock of eternity against Brainiac, it sent a powerful shockwave through the known universe. So powerful that it opened up our reality to other planes of existence. Forces of carnage, chaos, and mystery now have the chance to alter the natural order in ways they shouldn't."**

Constantine's jaw dropped, causing his cigarette to fall to the floor and extinguish. "Well, bollocks."

Zatanna folded her arms. "And do you have any idea on what these things are?"'

" **I cannot discern any of this** ," Nabu said, " **But know that if this continues, destiny will be changed. You must avert this situation before** -"

Out of nowhere, the helmet stopped talking and the orange haze disappeared. It quickly crashed to the floor, rolling over to Constantine's feet. Nabu was evidently gone but had left the three with a massive bombshell. The trio shared grim looks with one another. 

"Now isn't that a mouthful?" muttered Constantine.


	6. Fiery Future

**Voila! I'm back and with two chapters this time, so enjoy! This one is going to focus on Starfire and the Titans. I didn't know if her friends presented here will make it through the comic, but for right now I pictured them as a good addition to the one-shot. Additionally, thank you to everyone reviewing and reading this story. Jayfeathers Friend, thanks for your review, and know that Mortal Kombat will be coming up shortly. Also, a round of applause to Superior Tennyson, Tempest86, and bmoney4ever for following and favoriting this story - it means so much!**

The front door of the Lex Luthor Superhuman Penitentiary busted wide open. Walking out was a tall and fierce-looking alien, her skin the color orange and her hair red. Her collected green eyes rolled in frustration as she walked down the pathway away from the prison, feeling dejected from her experience inside the establishment.

Honestly, what had she expected? True, it had been over five years since she'd seen Cyborg, but her old teammate had changed very much since then. He'd killed, taken control, and adopted a more pessimistic view of the world. While Starfire was happy that he was getting a reduced prison sentence, she couldn't shake the humbled shock coming from her very soul after talking to him.

She neared the end of the sidewalk and turned to the corner, winding up in a small park. Some ways ahead she saw the two people who knew her the most; a muscular boy with black hair, and a girl with blond hair and a red sweater. The two turned and smiled at her presence, though even they weren't immune to noticing that something was off with her.

"How it'd go, Kori?" asked Connor Kent, better known as Superboy.

Starfire gripped her shoulder tenderly before slightly massaging it. "…Gravely. He…he isn't the same person anymore. The Victor I knew, one of kindness and hope, is gone."

"That's to be expected," replied Cassie Sandsmark. "It's been over five years since we saw him. We missed a lot while being in the Phantom Zone."

"True," said Starfire, "but that does not make up for the grievance he and the other members of the Regime committed. When I appealed to our principles, he threw them away as if trash." Her gaze temporarily shifted to a nearby pigeon, acting mechanically as it bent down and gobbled at some feed. "It is like he is more machine than man now."

The trio began walking further down the park. Cassie's face seemed to be piggybacking on Starfire's distress.

"If that was a dead end," commented Cassie, "then what do we do next? The Justice League's coming back, at least from what I heard."

"You don't think they're taking applications?" asked Connor in a joking manner. Cassie slapped his arm and he feigned a hurt reaction.

"I don't think Batman needs two "Super" teens on his hands," Cassie replied.

"Well, it's not like we're bringing the Teen Titans back after the all the crap we went through," Connor lamented.

"That is what we will do."

Connor and Cassie stopped in their tracks behind Starfire.

"Wait, what?" asked Cassie.

Starfire turned around. "The world needs us. There's a generation of young heroes, our age, in need of training. In the wake of Superman's regime, they need someone other than the adults to turn to."

Connor folded his arms. "No offense, Star, but It's not like we're at full strength.'

"Then we can start recruiting again," Kori replied. "Offspring, Blue Beetle are a few to start with. I've heard there are more spread across the globe. If we want to help our peers, then we'll need to take action soon."

"I'm in," said Cassie. "But are there any other vets you plan on recruiting for this?"

A smile curved itself on Starfire's face. "Yes."

…

Stashed from every major peninsula was a small island about the size of a mountain village. It had one resident and only one plane, and that all came from the deepest, darkest corners of the dark web. Looking like a bright sitcom home from the 80s, the residence was a small villa with enormous cyan walls and a white gate circling around it. The stone terrace and steps, however, were merely a façade for the small white swimming pool in the middle. Several leisure chairs graced the pool's presence, but the only chair occupied was by one man alone. He was wearing only a pair of swimming trunks, his hair grey and sporting an aged goatee. The peculiar thing was that he had an eyepatch covering up where his right eye would have been.

Slade Wilson, better known as Deathstroke, sipped on his margarita and marveled at the rays of the sun peppering him. His lip curled, his mind ruminating on the pleasantness of his current life. How easy it was for Superman to be out of the picture and to take jobs on the side for fun. For right now, he was content.

And then they had to show up.

His ears betrayed him as a series of blasts, high-pitched jolts, and other noises reverberated from the far-off shoreline. Slade sighed and got up from the chair; they'd probably gotten through the security and were now on their way towards him. Before he could run to the nearby weapons cache, a glowing hand gripped his shoulder.

"We just want to talk." He turned and was surprised to look upon the orange face of Starfire.

"Huh. Thought you were dead."

"And I thought you were retired," she rebutted, "but I guess nothing is what it seems, eh?"

The heroine let go of his shoulder, allowing Slade to back up a few feet and turn to the small exit towards the rest of the property. Two other figures, ones he immediately recognized as Wonder Girl and Superboy, walked into the pool area with what looked like pieces of the security measures in their hands. He growled; the aged assassin wasn't too fond of his state-of-the-art security getting wrecked.

"Cool it, man," Superboy said.

Slade turned to Starfire and folded his arms. "Well, what do you want?"

Starfire's gaze wandered to the ground, then to him and the rest of the pool. "We're looking to restart the Teen Titans. And as much as this might seem like a bad idea…We want you to supervise it."

His jaw dropped, Slade's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't be serious…I've tried to kill you multiple times! Why would you want me on your roster? And how do I know this isn't some sort of trick?"

"Not 'on it,'" reaffirmed Wonder Girl sternly. "Advising it, like a store manager."

"Trust me," said Superboy. "We don't need a trick to take you down head-on."

"You helped Batman when Superman was ruling the planet, and from what I can tell, your recent jobs haven't done…much damage," Starfire said. "You have the experience and the skills to help us teach those who want to be better heroes, but aren't there yet. Consider this a way to make up for the bloodshed in your past you regret – like Jericho."

That dug deep and hurt more. He looked at the ground, letting the memories flow his head before clearing them away.

"This a paying gig?" asked Slade, the ghost of a hopeful smile on his lips.

Superboy grunted. "I wouldn't count on it, Wilson. You'll have to rely on your pension for right now."

Starfire walked closer to him, hands at her sides and sternness in control of her face. "The offer is available, Slade Wilson. The choice is whether or not you decide to take it."

The three teenagers watching him, Slade folded his arms once again and pondered it all. Thoughts of his complicated past, the chance to do something new, and his desire to push it all away circled through his mind. After what amounted to about a few minutes in the sun, pacing and turning in concentration, he gazed back to the trio.

"Consider Deathstroke out of retirement."


	7. Finish Him!

**And now, the first guest character chapter -featuring TWO combat vets! Enjoy!**

Time seemed to come to a screeching halt as the cold of Sub-Zero's daggers pierced the invaders' shells. The wires and circuits froze in mid-air, just like did everything else. The only thing capable of moving were his eyes, watching in awe as an intense heat seemed to suck in everything pertaining to the very vicinity. He prayed in silence for it end, and it did quicker than he anticipated.

The next thing he knew, he was spat onto a flat and hard surface replacing the soft, muddy ground he'd been on. His eyes shot around, taking in the scene of what appeared to be an Earthrealm city. Huge towers of concrete and earthen streets greeted him, but his senses were off the charts. Something was wrong. Just how had he been transported to a city when he had been fighting alien invaders breaching the lands of the Lin Kuei?

He turned and began walking tensely down an alleyway. Reaching the end of it, his head popped out to see a flock of people walking over an open space. They seemed to be in a square of sorts and were doing various motions; absolutely no magic or technological aspects he recognized were present. Clearly, he wasn't in the icy mountains that he was familiar with, and he needed answers badly.

"Where in the realms am I?" Sub Zero asked nobody in particular.

Desiring to get a better view of it all, he gripped onto a nearby fire escape and began scaling it in record time. In what might have amounted to fifteen seconds, he was on top of the roof. The icy warrior was no closer to viewing the larger square when he sensed something heading his way. Sub-Zero did a back-flip into the air as a bolt of lightning sailed right past him, dissipating immediately. He landed on his feet and turned to the one person he expected it to be.

"Raiden."

True to his suspicions, the self-proclaimed 'god of lightning' stood from him down the roof. Adorned in exposed chest and arms segments paired with dark navy armor, a glint of frustration was hid underneath an eye mask and a wide hat. His fists crackled with the same energy he'd just utilized.

"Sub-Zero," he said. "I am surprised to see you here."

The leader of the Lin Kuei advanced forward. The temperature in his already-tense hands threatened to drop to a startling low. "Why attack me, Raiden? We are on the same side."

"Consider it disorientation, friend," Raiden replied. "I just appeared here myself and was confused, as I presume you are."

Sub-Zero glanced back towards the public square and the bright lights reflecting themselves onto the buildings. "Where…where are we? This is clearly not Earthrealm or either of our domains."

"Agreed." Raiden cupped his chin before joining the other fighter in surveying the city from the roof. "Something is amiss. First, we were attacked by robotic invaders that sought only to decimate. Now we are stranded, for an unknown amount of time, in a land not our own."

"Perhaps those machines…this is where they were from. A means to draw us out, limit our defenses?"

"Perhaps," Raiden said, "but guesswork will not suffice. We must try other avenues." The fighting master walked over to the edge of the roof and held out his hands. Watching in awe, Sub-Zero witnessed lightning travel through his fingers and leave them to expunge into the air. Then, with little time having passed, the lightning returned and sparked across his arms and into his chest. Raiden held his breath for a few moments before dropping to the floor and collecting himself.

"What did you do?" asked Sub-Zero.

Wiping his mouth, Raiden turned and smiled, albeit distortedly. "I looked through the electrical and power lines of the people on this planet. There were many differences, but the constant and main one is that the fighters of this earth are what they call superheroes…and supervillains. They use their gifts to help or hurt, and often come to blows with one another."

"Interesting," Sub-Zero replied. "There are champions here, but for a different purpose…" His mind drifted for several moments before he remembered something. "Wait, what about the invaders? Did you learn anything?"

"From what I saw in their technology, those drones that attacked us belonged to an alien called Brainiac. They were sent to assimilate this planet as he drained its' knowledge and took it for himself. The heroes of this world apparently defeated him but at the cost of some of their cities."

Sub-Zero looked down in shame. He and many others from their dimension knew the pain of losing loved ones. If it had happened here as well, he felt remorse for those unfortunate enough to bear the burden.

"Yet that does not explain how the drones attacked our dimension," he countered starkly.

"That is one question I do not know as well," Raiden said. "We must find out for ourselves."

"Looks like you two blokes need some answers," said a voice from behind them. The two fighters turned on their heels and faced what looked to be a British man in a brown trench coat, the cigarette in his hard hands spreading highlighted into his hair. "Truth be told, I'm rather a good conman than a narrator, so forgive me if I suck at it all."

Both unconsciously took fighting stances; Sub-Zero held his hands out and let the familiar cold feeling rush into them, while Raiden put his fists together and charged them up. "Who are you?" Sub-Zero demanded in a dark tone.

Constantine held his hands up. "Who do I look like? The bloody pope? Always, the name's John Constantine, and I'm your neighborhood-friendly magician. From what I was told, I'd be dealing with some nasty threats. Didn't think that'd count for D&D cosplayers."

"You view us as a threat? Are you allied with Brainiac?" Raiden asked.

Constantine shrugged and held up his hands. "Geez, that gob again? I'd snuff myself out before I joined up with an alien high on a god complex."

Sub-Zero furrowed his brows and looked closer at the magician. Whoever he was, he didn't look like the type of person eager to beat them to a pulp. Then again, looks were deceiving, but some risks needed to be taken. The icy warrior lowered his hands and glared at the newcomer. "I do not trust you, Constantine…but I am willing to listen."

Raiden looked at his fellow fighter and hesitated before relaxing as well. "So be it."

"Now that I'm asking it, who exactly are you two?" Constantine asked.

"I am Sub-Zero, leader of the Lin Kuei," Sub-Zero replied. One of his fists surged with cold energy and quickly coalesced into an icy blade, setting the magical conman off.

Raiden coughed. "I am Raiden, god of lightning and fighter for Earthrealm. I am not to be trifled with."

"Lovely," said Constantine. "I get this is somewhat of an odd experience and all, but why don't you two come with me so we can-"

A loud explosion sounded from the distance suddenly, drowning out Constantine's speech. All three turned to see the familiar orange blaze of a fire envelope a tall skyscraper in the distance, accompanied quickly by the sounds of gunfire. Obviously, some attack or robbery was going on.

"That's just great," Constantine said sarcastically. "Nothing like an explosion to knock Central City's socks off."

Sub-Zero's eyes narrowed. "If innocents are in danger, we should help." He began running towards the edge of the rooftop when Constantine piped up.

"Hey, hold on a second!" The Brit held up a finger. "This isn't your world, mate! You can't just run into the frying pan like some bloody superhero!"

Raiden walked up to him, his eyes sparkling once more with energy; he wasn't in a good mood. "This may not be our realm, John Constantine, but we will not stand idly by while innocents are in danger. Deal with that." He turned and bolted after Sub-Zero, the two leaping soundly into the distance and leaving Constantine on his own.

"Oh, fine," said John reluctantly. "I might as well supervise." He made some movements with his fingers before muttering some indistinguishable Latin. His body turning orange, the magical conman dissipated into thin air. The rooftop was once again empty and silent, albeit for the square of commoners nearby.


	8. Seven Seas of Murky Revenge

**I'm back! This time, we've got resident Aquaman villain Black Manta, and trust me, this is a pretty dark chapter (though prob not the last). Anyways, please review and thanks to everyone for the support!**

* * *

King Aquaman was restless.

He sat atop his throne, breathing calmly but wincing at the pain coming from his chest. He could still feel the massive cut Batman had delivered and with his own trident no less. Every time he moved or thought about something mildly unrelated, the pain came back as if freshly done over. The very memory was still festering in his body and mind. It wouldn't do good for the king of Atlantis to be this way, but unfortunately for him, even the best healers around said he would have to wait for it to subside.

His attention was grabbed when a soldier decked in crustacean armor walked into the expansive palace chambers. The soldier bowed and looked up. "My liege, there is something I must report."

He leaned back in his chair and gripped the magic trident that had pierced his own skin forcefully. "What is it?" His tone betrayed the fact that he wasn't in the best of moods today.

"The armed guard," said the soldier, "is…in disarray. After the attack committed by that alien, they were reorganizing and- "

Arthur waved his hand. His brows furrowed and his temple was throbbing irritably. "Get to the point, soldier."

"Apologies, my liege," the soldier formally admitted while bowing again. "One of the lieutenants is missing- Agulan. He didn't appear after the census our captains were required to appear at was called."

The report did seem genuinely concerning. Atlanteans weren't known for being runaways or turncoats -they were trained warriors from birth with a code of honor. Any lieutenant in the army who was placed with power on their shoulders was expected to be resilient. So, if this was indeed the case, it had to be pondered as to whether cowardice was involved at all.

"Is there any evidence he could have fled from our forces?" asked Aquaman.

"Nothing yet," the soldier replied. "But…there was one thing we found, my liege." She reached her hand behind her back and quickly presented an object in her palm. At first hard to discern, Aquaman's eyes widened when he realized what she was holding: a detached, bloody finger.

Arthur stood up suddenly, his chest heaving, and walked down the steps from his throne. When the soldier caught his gaze, he placed a hand on her crustacean shoulder pad. "Alert the armed forces and all the captains – Atlantis may be under more threat than we care to realize." He began to trot off but was interrupted by the soldier.

"Sire, what do you mean?"

He turned around with a look of urgency mixed in with worry. "There is only one man who would seek to do this. One man who would toy with me in this fashion, parading body parts like gifts towards me in cruelty. He is coming to Atlantis, and we must be ready…or we will all fall."

With that, he turned back to the doors and promptly left.

* * *

"Where is Atlantis? I will not ask again."

"Please…just let me go…I'll tell you…I- gaaahhhh!"

The Atlantean captain was in pure anguish. His arms and legs were strapped by bonds to a wall, restrained as the figure in the cybernetic diving suit tased him for what felt like the fifteenth time. The spasm left yet another burn on his body, but that was nothing compared to the dark red drips coming from where his missing finger would've been. The haunting crimson eyes of the diver pierced his very soul before the taser was powered down. Kneeling down, he gripped the captain's chin and turned it towards him.

"Tell me. Now."

Agulan coughed, blinking his eyes, but couldn't move from the grasp his head was confined to. His head wobbly from the torture, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"…Miles…from…the coast of Amnesty Bay…at the heart of the…sea." Agulan managed to get out.

It couldn't be seen, but inside his chrome helmet, Manta was smirking. He let go of the captain's head and got up, taking effort as he began to pace around the bloody and dark room seen only in red lights from the ceiling.

"Confirmation of what I've believed for many years," he bellowed through his helmet's dark voice. "The location of the city I've dreamed about destroying – the treasure I could take, the cultures I could wipe out. And the man who took my father from me – dead on the ground."

A sudden chuckle interrupted his monologue, and he turned to see the bloody, beaten soldier smiling bloodily in pain. "You…you will never stop Atlantis…my king will kill you…"

"Not if I skewer him for what he deserves," Manta replied warningly. He walked closer to the captive Atlantean before producing a small yet sharp dagger from his spandex waist. "You are of no further use to me. Goodbye." The blade swiftly struck him in the stomach, and restrained as he was, all Agulan could do was scream.

"Aaaaggggghhhhhhhhh!"

The fit went on for a while before he finally died down and collapsed, his body hanging from the bonds with little life in them. Watching him intently like a hawk trained to kill, Manta was satisfied. He returned the knife to his waist before turning to the cockpit of the submarine and punching in the coordinates. They weren't exact, but they would suffice for what he wanted. It was of little consequence to him as were the bubbles that temporarily impeded the view when the sub fired up.

Inside of him, something awoke from its deep slumber. Maybe it had been pushed off, held back, hidden away, but now it was wide awake and hungry for blood. His mind flooded with memories, ranging from fights with Aquaman to the moment the young hero killed his father. It all circled in his head before draining as he focused on closing his eyes. Aquaman would pay, he would make sure of it, for taking his father all those years ago. Blood would answer blood. And the last thing his eyes would grace upon would be his as the darkness came; lights of red in an ocean of death.

* * *

 **The tease for next chapter: Big, red, and likes to smoke. Oh, and he was played in two movies by the same guy who voiced Clayface in BTAS. Adios!**


	9. The Devil Wears Brown

"Sometimes I wonder why I'm in this stinkin' job."

Blood dripped from a ruby-red lip. The owner of said mouth, a hulking red figure in a brown trench coat with his black hair tied back into a ponytail, panted while holding himself against a decaying stone wall. The temptation to light a cigarette was quickly shoved away when his yellow eyes took a glance at the monstrous sight ahead of him: a scowling, hideous creature made up of swirling black scales and long-ranged claws. It's void of a face, eyes as black as darkness, let out a howl that might've scared anybody that looked at it – anybody albeit for a demon.

Hellboy smirked and tightened the grip on his gun, resting snugly in his right hand. "C'mon, freak. I got all day to kill 'ya."

The monstrous creature obliged by darting straight at him and swiping its large razor-sharp claws. He managed to duck backward out of reach, but one of his coat lapels was quickly sliced hallway through the middle by the claws. When the thing went for another strike, anger struck his face and he delivered a swift strike with his ruby-red fist. Catching it off guard, he gripped one of its arms and proceeded to lob it farther down from him, smashing into a small stone hydrant in the process. He took the time to go and grab his fallen gun, his ears picking up on the distress emanating from the creature's mouth. He'd no sooner reclaimed his pistol then he turned and saw the creature to be gone.

"What the heck?" he exclaimed wearily. Determined to find it, Hellboy walked down the broken-down sections of bricks and turned a corner. The section of faded pavement looked exactly the same to him, but luckily, his nose picked up on something being amiss. Then he heard a hiss in his ears and sighed.

"I guess you're ready for round two, all right."

He served and ducked as the creature aimed and then clawed at him, ferocity in each swipe. It was on the verge of another attack when Hellboy gripped his pistol and fired two shots out the barrel. One went through the stomach and exited with blue blood dripping to the ground; the other pierced the temple above the creature's eyes. After a moment or two of uneasiness, it let out a small roar and defiantly collapsed.

Slightly smiling in sweat, he knelt and lightly punched in in the shoulder. Nothing happened. A feeling of relief washed over the B.P.R.D. agent, and it couldn't be helped. Killing monsters was what he did for a living, but once or twice it proved to be satisfying. This was one of those times.

As he got up and was about to call in command, something strange happened. Whatever substituted for hair on his skin light up in an instant, akin to a massive wildfire. He was immediately greeted by what looked like swirling blue energy, the looks of which pulled itself towards him. He had no time to prepare as he was enveloped whole and faced a blinding white light. After that, everything was blank.

* * *

He found himself breathing in a surprisingly calm fashion. Opening his eyes, Hellboy was greeted by the sight of smokestacks, dark-colored buildings, and a darker turquoise of a night sky. His eyes readjusted for a second before scouring the rest of what he could see. In a complete turnaround, he found that he had apparently wound up on a small building viewing a large industrial city. Parts of it were too dark for his taste, however.

He gripped the small radio on his belt and moved it to his mouth. "Control, this is Hellboy. I think I got teleported someplace."

The radio fizzed but was abruptly cut short, no response included. He grumbled irritably.

"Control? Come in." Nothing again. "Control, I need an assist." Nothing changed at all. He slightly cursed under his breath, wanting to crush the radio in annoyance. After reconsidering, he put the electronic back and squeezed his fists eagerly before looking at the wide city in front of him. "Good for me."

As he located and began to climb down a nearby fire escape, Hellboy thought on the situation. He'd dealt with magic users, dragons, and many supernatural devices before, but just how had he gotten here? Had one of his old enemies arrived for payback or was something else afoot? His demon hands clasped the railings tighter as he got closer to the ground, eventually landing on his hind feet evenly. Whatever it was, he hoped it could be sorted out soon. There was supposed to be a game on at 8 in the break room, and he wanted to watch some football.

"Watch out!"

"Get her, man!"

"You idiots, she's right there!"

… _The hell?_ His ears were pointing towards what looked like a small alley some feet from him. Traversing it in almost no time, he peered further to see a woman in black running from what looked like three gang members. What really caught his eyes was the flash of silver in their pockets. Even though he used guns himself, he didn't condone criminal using it to hold leverage over others. That simply wouldn't do, so he reluctantly gave chase.

* * *

Lorie ran as fast as she could down the tightly packed warehouse district, but her escape path was coming to an end faster than she'd have hoped. She'd only stolen a little money from their safe so she could get out of Gotham, and now they were trying to kill her. If only she'd considered this more before she acted…

A bullet quickly passed her head from mere inches away, pulling her out of her thoughts. She swerved her head to the side a little while running, at her shock, to a dead end. There was no way out of this, was there?

She picked up on footsteps and turned around to find the very three men she'd narrowly robbed closing in on her, guns held from each of their hands at her. One of them had a cocky smile on his face, while another was simply pissed off.

"Listen, girlie," he began to say strongly, "just give us back our money and maybe we won't need to send you to the morgue."

"Idiot!" another one of the robbers cried while continuing to hold her at gunpoint. "Just shoot her! Don't barter like a cow because she's a girl!"

Lorie considered their offer for a moment, but then immediately decided against it. These men looked like they just wanted to play by messing with her, and even if she gave the money, they probably will still hurt her. She had to defy that expectation, at least if she wanted to feel like she'd done something worth it all.

"No. You're not taking it from me," she said defiantly.

The cocky criminal chuckled and cocked his gun at her again. "Have it your way, then-"

"I'd leave the kid alone, chumps. You might want to get out o' here."

Unsure of who the voice belonged to, the robbers turned backward – and nearly had a heart attack. Some…thing in a brown trench coat with red fists made of stone stood there, at least a foot higher than their combined heights. His twin yellow eyes scanned the robbers before he cracked his fists in irrational.

The third gang member, a slightly pudgy guy in a hoodie, sweated crazily. "Wha-what th' hell are you, man? Get away from me!"

"Yeah…what he said!" said another one.

Lorie, too, was mesmerized by the creature standing in their midst, but at least she didn't fear what she was looking at. Rather, she was happy it was sucking all the attention away from her predicament.

Hellboy sighed and looked back at them. "Always have to get crazy when you idiots see me, don't you? Forget it. Let's do this." He began to walk towards them just as the first gunman leveled his weapon at the demon.

"B-b-back off, freak! "His hold on the trigger shivered out of obvious fear. When Hellboy didn't, he reluctantly fired a bullet at him. To everyone's shock, however, the demonic hero simply blocked it with his stone hand. In an instant, the bullet had bounced off and hit a wall of the dead-end alleyway. He didn't even beat a sweat as he pummeled the gunman with said fist, clocking him into the same wall the bullet was now embedded in. With a groan, he collapsed into unconsciousness.

"Holy crap!" the pudgy gunman said, concern written all over his face and body posture. "What'd we do, man?"

His compatriot looked equally scared, yet managed to get out, "what do you think, fool? Fight!" He darted towards Hellboy with a low howl and jumped at him. Grunting nonchalantly, he simply swerved his fist into his stomach and directed him into the ground. As the thug hit the pavement hard, he gripped his arm and violently twisted it. The thug screamed in agony as a response.

"Get off 'a him, man!" Hellboy prepared to face the third thug, only to find nothing hitting him. He looked back to find, however, a truly shocking sight; the very girl he'd just saved was standing over the unconscious goon. Her left arm, clearly the one she'd suckered him with, was red and just as large as Hellboy's. As soon as her hand finished tensing, it miraculously shrunk back to normal size, and for some reason, Hellboy felt a form of energy replenish into himself.

Lorie's eyes met his for a brief second before realizing what had happened. "Oh...uh, thank you, Mr…"

"Hellboy," he chuckled. "Neat trick you got there."

Lorie glanced at her arm with alarm. "I…I don't know how I did that. Honestly, all I wanted to do was get out of Gotham and not be in any trouble. Guess I couldn't escape that."

"So this is where we are, some city called Gotham?" He asked. When she nodded, his face became puzzled. "Weird."

"You've never been here before?"

"You could say that. What's your name again?"

"Lorie..." she said. "But I prefer it when people call me Black Alice."

"Cute," he replied, holding his stone hand out to shake. "Demon and government agent." Nervously, Lorie shook his hand. "You know this place pretty good?"

"I guess so," said Lorie. "Didn't like this city that much."

"Any chance you could show me where the nearest telephone is? I don't exactly carry a cell."

For the first time tonight, Lorie's face brightened up. "Uh, yeah, sure! I think there's one a couple streets from here, down on the left. Let's go this way!" She started walking back the very way she'd come, and in response, Hellboy went with her, a shrug on his face. Sooner rather than later, they were gone.

Had they stayed a little longer, they would have noticed the appearance of a woman in a showbiz suit and top hat. Searching the dead-end alleyway with her magical aura and eyesight, Zatanna proceeded to sigh for coming up shirt.

"Dang," she said. "I just missed him!"

 **Writing Hellboy was a treat. Next time, expect something very small- you'll probably figure it out, anyways! Please review and follow, as hearing your voices is always great!**


	10. Going the Subatomic Distance

**The fanfic continues! Still working on this one and some others, amongst a job search and looking for fun ideas for the summer. This chapter is exclusively focusing on the Atom, and the next couple will also be the last. Additionally, hats off to Dark Mage Wyvern and subzerothecryomancer for favoriting this story. I know that I say this a lot, but please review if you can - I would love to hear your guys' thoughts and opinions. Anyways, have a good day!**

* * *

Bill Mason chugged at his computer consoles in a mechanical fashion. His eyes were tired and had bags under them. Stress lines were wrapped on top of his forehead. Wearily working on the designs for some new patents in the cusp of S.T.A.R. Labs, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, exhausted. A momentary relief washed over him as he closed his eyes and blinked. Deciding to call it a night, he finished what he had been working on and closed the computer down.

He grabbed his coat and walked to the door, turning the lights off as he went. Had he stayed but a bit longer, Bill may have noticed the small fixture of light that appeared and expanded into the space next to his computer station. It moved and quickly fizzed through the computer before landing on the other side once again, slightly pulsating with a pinkish glow. Immediately it disappeared, and the abandoned watch next to it.

* * *

In an unidentified space, a small light popped out of nowhere on the ground. It slowly grew and grew, and a second look revealed what appeared to be a man growing in size. Time had barely passed at all before the glow faded into a costumed individual composed of red and blue, various sorts of armor and padding covering his spandex body. He wore a mask with eye slits on it, and a glowing atom was placed firmly on the top of his head near his temple.

Content with what he had taken from S.T.A.R. Labs, the Atom turned to a long table occupying a wall of the space. Various gadgets and gizmos, ranging from pads to wiring units, were scattered along its' length. He firmly placed the newly acquired possession with the rest, but almost immediately mulled over it, dissatisfied.

"Hmmm…." he ruminated. "The quarks might not fit all of this, but if I fit in the neutron compart…No, no - too risky. Got to try something else."

"Choi," a voice barked from behind him. Turning right around, he saw none other than Batman himself.

"Batman," he said supposedly. "Didn't see you there."

"Why would you?"

"Right…What can I help you with?"

Batman threw a glance about the workbench. "Several missing items from a variety of small tech startups and laboratories. Ring a bell?"

A pang of guilt quickly washed over the Atom, who scratched his head's backside. "Oh, yeah…well, there's an explanation. A good one, I mean."

The dark knight simply folded his arms. "Go on."

The Atom sighed and turned towards the table. Then in a flash of light, he had quickly shrunk down and landed evenly next to one of the devices he'd pocketed. At his size, it was slightly larger than him.

"I've been the Atom for some time now," he began. "I mainly did it to uncover the secrets of science, of shrinking, and of pushing the limits of our knowledge. But more recently, it's been linked to the man who brought me into the fold in the first place – Professor Palmer."

"Hmmm," bemused Batman. "I heard he was missing."

"Yes, he has," replied Ryan. "It's been months since I saw him last, and the only thing I know is that he was headed towards the Microverse – a subatomic universe much smaller than our own. After that, it's been only radio silence from him. Well, until a week ago."

"Continue."

Nodding, the tiny titan fiddled with his belt and hit a switch. Emanating from the atomic iron on it came a large diagram that hovered just above the table. It showed what appeared to be an ovular realm filled with red and blue energy, some flickering spots peppered around it. As the dark knight moved to get a closer look at the data, a loose and haphazard signal circled the realm evenly.

"I got a signal addressed straight to the belt," answered the Atom. "I couldn't tell who sent it or why, but it was scattered across the Microverse. That's why I've been…taking technology. It was so much of a revelation, I just had to pinpoint the location, and those bits and pieces have been going towards building the tech needed to get there."

Batman looked half convinced. "You could've come to someone…"

"No offense, Batman," he responded, "but who? Cyborg is in jail, you're busy dealing with everything, and the one man who might just understand this all is the one in trouble. I didn't exactly have a lot of options."

"True."

The two stood in silence, looking over the devices once again and thinking to themselves.

"How far have you gotten already?" asked Batman.

"Somewhat close to being finished," the Atom surmised. "All the tech I took to make a vehicle capable of breaking the dimensional barrier is near finished, but I need a suitable power source. Everything Earth-based that I know of hasn't worked at all."

Batman's lip curled. He ducked a hand into his belt and produced a small trinket before quickly chucking it at the table. Slightly put off by the action, the tiny titan looked over and marveled at the massive object looming far from him. In a brief splash of energy, he'd grown back to normal size and was holding the device in his hand, caressing it like a newborn baby.

"Is this…"

"A piece of Brainiac's technology," said Batman. "I kept a couple of his ship's components hidden away, in case they could be…repurposed."

Ryan stole a glance at him. "Let me guess…the others don't have a clue about this?"

Batman put a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me, this technology is safer with the fewer people who know about it."

"Works for me. By the looks of it, this just might be what I need to power my ship." One of his fingers slowly rubbed over the glowing purple energy logo of the tech, feeling the energy in his fingertips. He smiled in awe at the feeling.

"Guess I'll leave you to it," Batman remarked before turning and walking off towards the exit. "Oh, and one more thing…"

"-Don't steal from anywhere else, right?" the Atom finished for him. "I got the memo, Bruce. See you around."

The sound of the door closing signified as his goodbye.

* * *

In the time frame of a couple of hours, Ryan had made serious progress in his work. Shrinking and growing back and forth, repeated many times, he connected wires and welded pieces to make the ship whole. He got so far as to become lost in his work, but somewhere in his head, he kept himself straight on task. Eventually, he took a short break and realized just how much his brain had accomplished.

The ship was roughly the size of a baseball bat but looked more like a miniature spaceship imbued with purple lights and scraps. A small window shield gave him a tiny glance into the very space where he would operate out of, and where he would navigate it.

So he could go save doctor Palmer.

 _Here I come, Ray. I'll be seeing you real soon!_

 **All that I can promise for next time is something enchanting...and dangerously marvelous. See you all then!**


	11. Possession is Only Half the Battle

**Sorry I've been gone a while, just need some time to think and get away. Anyways, here's the newest chapter, and focusing on the one character Suicide Squad didn't do justice to the most- Enchantress!**

* * *

Twin eyes the color of emerald gazed longingly at the orphanage right in front of them. It was at least several stories tall and had a gothic feel, though much of what might've seemed dark looked to be toned down. Children could be seen passing through the windows and entering rooms, others looking annoyed at the bird droppings on the windows. Smack dab on the front of it all was a rectangular sign, letters printed in the middle of it. They read "FAWCETT CITY CHILDREN'S ORPHANAGE. OPEN ARMS AND HAPPY HEARTS."

 _What a petulant lie. No wonder this establishment is filled with orphans._

 _Shut up._

 _Deny it as much as you want, you know I happen to be right._

Shaking her head, the woman threw caution to the wind as she walked towards the orphanage. Her appearance consisted of a brown jacket and white shirt underneath. A short pile of brown hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, but her face was a different story altogether. It hinted at someone trying to keep a darkness locked away – and failing. Pushing into the door, she walked into the lobby and happened upon the desk clerk. She looked up at the new woman with realization. "Hello. How may I help you today?" she asked.

The visitor unconformably brushed her hair with a hand before answering. "Hi. Uh…my name's June Moone. I'm a graphic designer…from Fawcett National…I had an appointment set up with Freddy Freeman some time from now."

The clerk looked monotone, checking her papers to see if it was true. "Huh. Sorry, I don't see anything here."

Sweat drops appeared on June's forehead. "There-there has to be a mistake. I-

" _-Will make this work."_ The clerk looked incredibly distressed at the sudden turn June's face had taken. Before, it was natural and focused. Now, it was a carnal smile and a pair of purging green eyes. Even her voice sounded like it had been possessed. If only she knew she was right.

"Ma'am…are you alright?"

Instead of directly answering, she swished her right hand in a quick display of green energy. Immediately the desk clerk breathed in and collapsed onto her desk. Confident that the woman was unconscious, June glossed over the direction book she had and fumbled through for Freddy's location. A couple of pages later, she put the book down and walked to the elevator. She knew where he was finally.

" _Now I'm alright."_

* * *

Freddy Freeman wasn't your regular orphan. Despite being the same build as most of the other children his age, he was held back in many areas by one simple fact; he was a cripple. An accident when he was younger forced him to wear crutches so as to support his left leg. While others might've teased or belittled him or it, Freddy had gotten used to the situation at this point, and was more than willing to not raise his expectations of what he could and couldn't do.

His room was a small but substantial space. Comprising only him, it had a bed, a table, a bookshelf, and a window to the large park located in the center of the orphanage. The only other thing inside the space was the door, leading to the hallway and the public bathroom. Since he was not feeling that up to socializing with the other children today, Freddy resigned to reading some old classics.

Whilst in the midst of reading partway through Moby Dick, he heard a slight knock on the door. Lifting his head up from the page, he answered, "Come in." To his surprise, it wasn't another child, but instead a woman in a tan jacket and short brown hair.

"Hello…" Freddy said cautiously. "Who are you?"

"I'm June Moone," the woman revealed before holding out a hand, to which Freddy accepted. "I'm a graphic designer hired by the orphanage to do a new ad for their outreach ministry, and I thought it might be nice to have an occupant here working with me."

Freddy scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Okay…but why me?"

June sat down on the other side of the bed and breathed. "Well, from what I was told, you're one of the smartest kids here. You're polite, resourceful, brave. And in addition to all that-" she got closer in a sudden move that made him slightly uncomfortable.

"-you happen to bolster quite the marvelous set of abilities."

If a lightbulb could go off inside Freddy's head, it most certainly would have.

Wracked with shock at her implication, he began to edge back towards the window. "What…what are you talking about?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, Freddy," said June in a now more sinister voice. As if on cue, the door shut loudly and the distance between the two of them magically shrunk. "Or…should I say, Captain Shazam?"

"I don't - omygod!" Freddy could only watch as June's body seemed to be absorbed by some sinister black face and breathed out into a darker version of herself. Sitting where she once had been was a figure draped in black and dark green. The face underneath her dark hood stared at him with glowing green eyes, and crackling emerald energy flowed from her fingers up into the room. She smiled evilly at him.

" _Did you really think you could hide out here, all alone and undetectable, Freddy?"_ She taunted menacingly. " _No person can hide forever from the likes of me."_

"What do you want from me?" asked Freddy.

" _Ah. Getting down to business. I like that."_ Enchantress said, some evil sarcasm added to the mix. " _Because you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. I want access to the Rock of Eternity. The very place you store your power and get it from."_

"Then I can't help you," he said defiantly. "I haven't transformed in years, not since…what happened to Billy. And besides, I don't want to anymore, so why can't you just take it from me? Go ahead!"

" _While I would love to_ ," she replied, " _I need you to access it for me. And again, I don't want your power. I want the Rock. Because if I can get my hands on it, then my abilities will be more powerful than ever!"_

"I'm not doing it."

" _Then why don't I make myself clear?"_ Enchantress inched closer and gripped Freddy by the collar before lifting him up some. _"I won't hurt just you to make myself all the more powerful. If I have to, I will butcher every orphan and innocent in this building – and beyond – to get that Rock. Granted, it'd make my day even more fun, but it's your choice. So make it."_ The last words out of her mouth seemed to almost singe his hair in evil.

After a moment or two of consideration, Freddy's eyes bolted over the room and found nothing to help his situation. Closing them, he started a familiar call both of them knew too well.

"Shaza-"

The moment before he would've finished, the Enchantress snuck her hand over his mouth and muffled the cry. Suddenly, sparks of lightning began to seep from his tongue and through her fingers. The room lit up like a candle and only got brighter. The only audible sound that could be heard was Freddy's muffled scream. A good thirty seconds later, the light died out and the room went back to being partly-shady…but forever changed.

Enchantress smirked wickedly over the bed and a burned skeleton of what had once been Freddy Freeman. His bones were withered, his face was gaunt, and he couldn't breathe at all. A slight whimper breathed from his body, unto which she simply cackled.

" _Sweet dreams_ ," she teased evilly. " _You didn't make it, but I know where the rock is now. Have a good time at the morgue – and trust me, I hear people are dying to get in there!_ " Her hands puffed with black smoke before she disappeared, a sinister laugh erupting from her maniacal face.

* * *

 **Only two chapters left! Thanks to everyone for reading this, and know that many more stories including and beyond this one are on the way! Til next time!**


	12. Cowabunga!

**So close! After so long, we've finally reached the penultimate chapter of this story, and this one'll talk about our favorite heroes in a half-shell! Thanks a lot for your opinions and to the people who've favorited/followed this since I last updated, including jrarulez, turtlefan16, and Thalassia.** **Please** **review, favorite, follow, and enjoy. So now, feast on some some turtle power!**

* * *

Did you ever hear about the sewer when you were younger? How it was gross and the place where all the city's waste ended up going to? Well, Gotham's sewer system wasn't much different. Beyond the occasional villains hiding out in it, it could be a remarkably nice place to explore – if you could somehow get past the fact that it was full of manure. But tonight, everything was different, as much had drastically changed. Things were never going to be the same, and that mainly applied to four heroes in a half-shell.

* * *

Donnie massaged his reptilian head and looked up, seeing blackness before blinking to find a darkened sewer. He would've begun formulating about the scenario had a certain foot not accidental hit him in the back of the head. "Ow!"

"Sorry, bro," a suave voice garbled from behind him. Donnie grumbled and faced his younger brother Michelangelo, who looked just about as perplexed about the blackout as he was. He noticed a slight piece of pizza was hanging from one of his chest pecs.

"What-where are we?" Both turned to see that Raphael was awake, lodged on his back some feet towards the other side of the wall. One of his sais had somehow drifted from his belt and was floating in the sewer water nearby.

"I could say the same thing," Donatello remarked. "Honestly, I don't know how we ended up back in the sewer."

"Since when have the Kraang ever sent us home?" asked Mikey. "That's, like, crazy, bro."

"I think we get it, Mikey," came a fourth voice. By the time the other turtles had come around, they'd realized that it was their older brother and more experienced leader, Leonardo. He was more unique than the others in his mature posture and defined reptilian features. The biggest difference, however, was the blue mask he wore over his eyes.

"Leo!" Raph exclaimed. "You get knocked out, too?"

"Yeah…" he trailed off while looking around at the sewer. "Are we somewhere close to home?"

"That might not be the case, Leo," deadpanned Donatello. He was hunched over a small computer screen positioned in his hand, his scientific eyes glued to the screen. "I'm not picking up on the Lair anywhere near this sewer system…or familiar landmarks, for that matter. Everything I'm reading, for lack of a better idea, is different."

The four turtles began walking down the sewer tunnel, taking into account the stenches and stains of waste in addition to scattered pieces of garbage. At this point, wading through disgusting water was commonplace to them, but it could still be revolting every once in a while.

Michelangelo stopped when he was several feet from the nearest turn and knelt down, picking up a small object in his hand. He turned around and faced the others with a grimace. "Uh, guys?"

"Mikey, don't make a fuss about wet trading cards right now," grumbled Raph. "We're kinda' busy."

"No, seriously," Mikey reiterated. "Look!"

His three brothers shrugged before glancing at the youngest of them, and then proceeded to stop dead. Held in Mikey's right palm was a small, bloody, and detached finger. Upon further examination, it could be seen that there was a massive bite mark lodged where it would have connected to a hand. The orange-faced turtle looked positively revolted at the sight.

"Ewwww…."

"Put it down, Mikey," Leo demanded, equally as disturbed as everyone else. When his brother let the appendage fall into the water, he instinctively gripped the bottoms of the twin katanas strapped to his shell. "Let's be on our guards, guys. We don't know if we're the only ones down here."

"What kinda' mutant leaves fingers lying around?" Raph asked nobody in particular as they advanced down the sewer." It's…it's just disgusting!"

"I might just be able to figure that out soon," replied Donnie as he continued to look at his scanner. As they turned the corner, his face lit up into shock. "Uh, oh."

Mikey didn't like his tone. "What's wrong, Donnie?"

"Well," began Donnie, "my scanner's picking up heat signatures in this tunnel. And there's five of them."

"Wait…five?" Raph asked confusedly. "So, where's the other one?"

"At this very moment…" he trailed off. "…Swimming towards us. Look!"

The four turtles spun around, focused on the sudden rush of sewer water heading towards them. While Donnie put up a small flashlight to see the motions better, the others gripped their weapons and trained them on the fixture that was approaching. All too soon, the silhouette in the water stopped and submerged into nothing, the ripples fading at the turtles' feet.

"Uh…where'd it go?" Mikey questioned.

The inquiry was quickly answered when a massive figured burst forth from the water between the brothers, a heavy fist clocking Raph into the wall. As Mikey swung to dodge what looked like a heavy tail, Leo yelled and swerved his swords into the side of the creature. It instantly howled and then swung the tail at him. Seconds ticking by, he fell down into the water and slid onto his back, but not before a slight scale from the rushing appendage grazed his nose.

Leonardo has no sooner gotten up and looked back then Donatello leaped over him, doing his best to avoid a swiping claw from the monster. He hurriedly produced a small electronic from his belt and immediately chucked it at the creature. To his luck, it landed neatly on one of his scaly shoulders. When the beast turned back for another go, a sparkle from the device ignited a massive electric shock, sending waves of pain into the crocodile. After a good twenty seconds of pained screams, it ended and he exhausted one last breath before collapsing into the sewage waters.

Mikey quickly ran over to the wall, looking to help up a beaten-down Raph. Apparently, the hits had given a few cracks to his shell and a bruise on his knee, but nothing else beyond that. "Omygosh! Raph! Are you okay?" he asked out of worry. His tough-as-nails brother grunted and managed a heavy smirk.

"I'll be fine," he said bitterly. "…Eventually." The two went to join the others in looking at the defeated crocodile mutant. Donnie was scanning him with his computer while Leo looked on and cupped his chin, lost in thought.

"He's a mutant, right?" Mikey asked. "He's got to be one, the way he looks like Leatherhead and all."

"Actually," Donnie interjected, "I'm starting to think he's not one. My scanner isn't picking up any mutagen in his cells, which means that he either got his appearance from genetics or another factor."

"Great," Raph grumbled. "Something' else we can't explain." He noticed that Leo wasn't talking and saw him looking into the distance. "Yo, Leo. What's botherin' you?"

Instead of directly answering, their leader pointed at first to the wall. His brothers glanced over and soon saw what he'd been looking at; scratched in the stone were what appeared to be letters, polarized and edgy ideas formed into shapes. The end result was one wholesome name: KILLER CROC. After several seconds of staring the turtles gazed back and forth from the letters on the wall to their unconscious assailant.

"Bet that dumb hunk carved that in," Raph stated. "Makes sense since he's cold-blooded."

Leo shook his head. "What makes sense is that we just took down the crocodile guy. What doesn't make sense is why we're in a foreign sewer system. Who knows what other things might be down here?"

Before either Mikey or Raph could comment on their brother's irritability, Donnie piped up. "Actually, I think I've figured out a way away from this place." He pointed fingers towards a far-off turn in the tunnels. "We take that path and turn left, then go down away there, we'll wind up at a street exit. It's the best chance I've got right now."

Raph looked at his brothers and shrugged. "Best chance we've got, guys. Why not try it?" Seeing nobody answer, he swerved in the direction of the tunnel and began running off. Left with no other choice but to follow their brother, the three turtles gave chase.

* * *

Applying the correct amount of pressure needed in a counter-clockwise motion, Donnie slowly pushed the manhole cover off its spot and onto the pavement. His eyes took in a spectrum of bright lights and darkened streets as he got up. Mikey, Leo, and Raph all got up as well and could see the large city into which they'd entered.

"This sure ain't New York," Raph remarked.

"You think they've got pizza?" Mikey asked curiously. "I'm kinda' starving here."

"Don't worry, Mikey," reassured Donnie. "We're bound to find some pizza in a discreet, non-confrontational way sooner or later.

"Guys…" Leo said suddenly. "Look up there." He pointed towards a large billboard several stories up in the air, and all the turtles immediately gazed upon it with delay shock.

The subject of said billboard was of the city they were in, but the title was what nearly broke them. It read in large letters, "GOTHAM CITY GOLIATHS VS. METROPOLIS MAMMOTHS."

"…Gotham City?" Leo wondered out loud.

Mikey looked perplexed. "Is that a comic book name or something? I'd have read about it somewhere already.

"Yeah…I don't think so," Donnie said as he continued to glance at the billboard, then down to his wrist computer. "No…this isn't right…" He clutched his head and began shaking, drawing the attention of Raph. He immediately fixed a hand upon his brother's shoulder in attempting to console him.

"Donnie…what's wrong?"

"This is impossible…"

"Donnie?" he asked again.

Donatello stopped shaking and looked back at his brother, no longer shaking but still moved to shock by something. Taking a deep breath, he finally explained what he was talking about.

"Guys…I don't know how to put this…but I think we're in another dimension."

His brothers looked at him with concerned eyes for a handful of moments, in which nobody moved. Sooner rather than later, Mikey broke the silence by breaking into hysterical laughter. "Ha! I'm sorry, Donnie, but...that's crazy!"

Donnie shook his head. "I wouldn't say that, Mikey. Remember how we didn't recognize the sewers, or how we just magically wound up in some city we've never heard of before? And furthermore, I can't communicate with Master Splinter, April…anybody we call family or friends. To put it plainly, we're cut off from anything we know."

Raph's eyes enlarged as he took in what Donnie was trying to say. "So that's what happened with the Kraang…woah. Geez…"

"There's got to be some way back, right?" Leo asked his brother with a tint of hope in his voice. "We can't be stuck in some parallel dimension forever!"

Donatello looked down, his face sunken and at a loss for words.

"…I can't say…"

Silence was all that followed. Had the turtles not been too engrossed in the revelation, they might've noticed a glaring red light several yards in the nearest security camera. It blinked several times and then disappeared with no trace.

* * *

Hundreds of yards away in a secret location hidden underneath Arkham Asylum, Harley Quinn was relaxing in the Belfry. Sitting around the main computer had its benefits, from a great place to watch TV to being cozy in a chair. She was about to snack on some chilly fries when the multiple screens lit up with an all-too-familiar logo of a glaring red eye. Harley sighed and put her fries down, knowing exactly who was messaging her.

"What's up, Brother Eye?" she asked. "I'm kinda' eating here."

"ANOMALY DETECTED IN GOTHAM CITY," the monotone computer intelligence stated. "FOUR MUTANTS OF REPITILLIAN ORIGIN FOUND ON SECURITY FOOTAGE." On cue, a series of hi-0def images of the band of turtles appeared and flooded the screens. "SHOULD I ALERT BATMAN?"

Harley studied the turtles and found herself fascinated by them in some way. When her mind collected, she stood up and decided on her course of action. "Hold the phone, Hal. I'll figure this out of myself."

Walking down to the garage located a short distance away, Harley found the very motorcycle she'd been looking for. A quick hop and throttle later, she'd gotten on it and set off past the opening towards Gotham's upper roads. For once, she'd get to take point on something herself, and maybe get Batman to trust her even more. Did fighting some alien turtles count? She'd just have to find out, and with her trusty baseball bat at hand.

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 **Stead fast, true believers, as there'll be one last chapter coming up soon. Til then,** **excelsior!**


	13. Injustice For All

**This is it. The maestro stroke, the magnum opus, the conclusion of this Injustice one-shot series. I'm glad to have made something for what is right now one of the best DC fighting games ever. Hope you followers and favorites like this last chapter. Adios, friends!**

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"And that's what's been happening as of late," Bruce remarked as his fingers circled the keyboards. "To be honest, I'm thankful it's not so much to deal with, especially after the invasion."

"Seems like you have it under control," said the figure from across the screen. Shadows concealed his face and his black gloves rested in position while continuing to look the dark knight.

"Ironically, it doesn't feel that way."

"It never does in our line of work, but there has to be at least some inch of your moral fiber telling you it's going to be fine. Trust yourself."

"You're one to talk, I bet you don't have to fight crime with everyone knowing who you are," Bruce said jokingly. "Or better yet, an evil version of Clark to boot."

"You'd be surprised. Last week, we had to fight one of Lex's bizarre clones. Nearly took us all down with him, but we pulled through."

Bruce licked his lips. "Teamwork. It's hard enough forming a new Justice League, but now keeping everyone together…sometimes I'm afraid it's going to fall apart all over again."

"Then don't," the figure interjected, scooting up in his seat. "The past is the past. You can't change it, not even with science or time-travel. For better or worse, that's the way your timeline went, but you can move on from it towards something better. And if you hold fast to the principles we honored our parents with, everything will work out."

A smile spread itself across his face. "Wait a second. You didn't get religious recently, did you?"

"Let's just say Diana's U.N. lectures are starting to get to me. Can't say that they'll stick, though."

"I'll drink to that." Both men laughed merrily, the topic having cheered up as a result. When the positivity died down, the shadowy figure on the screen glanced at his glove and sighed.

"Looks like I'm going to have to table this talk. Crime doesn't sleep here, too."

"Figured as much. Good luck, Batman." Bruce congratulated.

"You too, Batman." The screen fizzled to a black state, leaving the millionaire staring at his own reflection. He grumbled and walked away from the console, eventually wresting at the railing over the Belfry's garage.

So much had changed after they defeated Brainiac. True, he didn't know everything about the ramifications of the attack, but it was still upsetting to him. Half of the people he elected to the Justice League seemed to have commitments, and then there were the weird anomalies Constantine had warned him about. He'd have to deal with that sooner rather than later.

At least the one thing he could count on was…well, himself. The alternate Batman that he'd brought over five years ago talked to him from time to time, catching him up on things in his world. In the scheme of hectic events happening on this earth, the chats added a sense of normalcy to the grand scheme of it all. The normal he wanted to return, however, probably wouldn't anytime soon. And he was going to have to fully accept that.

Crime never slept, so he mentally sighed and turned back to the Brother Eye monitors, ready for whatever else came his way.

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 **For those of you into these types of stories, I might do some more video gamer or one-shot style stories soon. Other than that, have a good day, and thank you to everyone for the support!**


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